


Three Is A Magic Number

by Oshun



Category: The Queen's Thief - Megan Whalen Turner
Genre: Costis' POV, F/M, Irene/Eugenides/Costis, M/M, Multi, POV Third Person, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-29
Updated: 2015-05-29
Packaged: 2018-04-01 21:34:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4035355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oshun/pseuds/Oshun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The king’s face was turned away. Costis bent to look at it closely, aware that he was taking a liberty very few must have. Eugenides looked different in his sleep, younger and— Costis searched for a word — gentler. --The King of Attolia (The Queen's Thief series. Book 3).</p><p>Happy belated birthday to Havisham! A little nothing of a ficlet. I would someday love to write a real Costis/Gen/Irene short story. Just a teaser for your birthday, which I hope you will enjoy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three Is A Magic Number

**Author's Note:**

  * For [havisham](https://archiveofourown.org/users/havisham/gifts).



“Beautiful, isn’t he?” the queen whispered. She smiled over her husband’s sleeping form at Costis. Eugenides’ body was gracile and yet well-muscled, his skin nut-brown, his hair a disorderly mess of tousled black curls. His mouth was wide and sensual, and his lips were a deep red. Despite having as many scars as any serious warrior, and missing a hand, the overall impression was of a stunning body, trained and hard-used. His face looked innocent in repose. 

“Yes, My Queen. He is.” Heart-wrenchingly beautiful, he thought.

“I think you owe me something,” she said. 

“Thank you, ma’am? I am grateful for your generosity.”

“No. Not that!” She laughed. “We should thank you, dearest Costis, for indulging us. I was thinking that you might tell me when it was that you first noticed . . .”

“Oh, by all the gods!” the King shouted, wide awake. “Can the two of you please stop yammering—you sound like an entire flock of squawking magpies. I’m so sleepy now and you’re torturing me! Please settle down and cuddle me before I freeze to death.” If he was aiming for a level of pathos beyond the usual melodrama, he failed miserably. The idea stirred Costis and he smiled at the king. Eugenides gave him a grin and a wink.

Irene made a ‘pfft’ sound, raising an elegant eyebrow, and said, “Of course, Your Majesty,” her tone dangerous and imperious, also playacting, but more successfully than her spouse that time. She pulled the sheet over their nakedness and kissed Eugenides on the forehead. “If you are so cold, you could put your nightshirt on, my love.”

“No. Then I couldn’t feel either of your skins,” he complained, sticking his lower lip out in an extravagant pout.

Costis believed him; Eugenides loved skin. He could not hold back a chuckle. “Grumpy old boar,” he said, throwing his arm over Gen and Irene, drawing the three of them together—skin-to-glorious skin.

“That’s better,” Gen answered, with a long-suffering sigh of relief that won an involuntary giggle from Costis. The king squirmed, and squirmed some more, pressing his pert little bottom against Costis’ stomach, causing a predictable response.

“If you continue to wiggle like that, My King . . .”

“Tell me, Costis! I am riveted! What will you do? Are you going to give me a Big Surprise? If so, that’s the most ineffective threat I may have ever heard.”

“Ha!” said the queen, aiming for the wry or exasperated, but achieving only amused and tender. “You were right again, Gen. This is lovely.”

“Do you think Costis is happy too?” he asked, disingenuous even to Costis’ ears.

“We could ask him,” Irene answered. She did love to provoke her husband and, in doing so was often capable, in spite of how much he worshiped her, of aggravating Costis as well.

“Well, I hardly think that is necessary,” Costis grumbled, feeling ashamed that after all they had given him he still objected to being the butt of their private jokes. For some reason, both Irene and Gen found his remark funny.

“Hmm,” Gen murmured, when they had finally stopped laughing at Costis. “I am so comfortable and sleepy again now. Warm too! I think I am the luckiest man in three kingdoms.” Costis thought Gen had that all wrong, that he himself was obviously far more fortunate than the King of Attolia to be sharing their bed.


End file.
